Empty
by Tyranusfan
Summary: Epilogue to Black Market. Adama reaches out to a distant Lee. Little fluffy. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first time posting a story here. I like epilogues…filling out scenes...adding bits and pieces. This is an epilogue to the final scene in "Black Market," after Adama let's Lee know that he knows about the woman.

Constructive feedback is needed and welcomed.

I don't own anything BSG or otherwise. RDM does. Don't sue me please.

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**Empty**

"But you should have told me about the woman."

Lee looked up sharply in surprise at his father's words. _How did he know?_ Not knowing what to say, he settled back against the couch, his eyes focusing on the far wall. He tried to think of what to say…anything to say, really. In the end, he just let go and said the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he glanced over and resigned himself to the obvious part of it all, "I know you're disappointed."

Adama didn't move his stern gaze from Lee's face, but his head tilted slightly. "I'm not judging you, son."

That seemed to get Lee's attention. His son's eyes came around to look at him.

"You're _not_?" Lee asked quietly. He sounded dubious.

"No," Adama answered simply, and left it at that.

Lee couldn't accept what he was hearing. His dad wouldn't just let him off the hook. Would he? He'd been seeing a socialator, a _prostitute_, for weeks. Surely that would earn him a lecture or a reprimand…something. Absurdly, his brain turned back to how his dad knew in the first place. He had included Shevon only peripherally in his report. Then it clicked.

"The call from _Cloud 9_?"

"Yes."

Lee couldn't help but notice that his dad's steely eyes hadn't left him. They remained focused on his face, drilling slowly towards his soul with every passing moment. He started to squirm a little under the scrutiny, and took another sip of the ambrosia in his hand to cover the discomfort. The urge to bolt from the room was growing within him, but his father spoke again just before the urge became unbearable.

"What are you looking for, Lee?"

A few seconds went by as Lee just sat there, trying--no, wanting--to answer the question. He couldn't. He had nothing inside with which _to_ answer. Finally, he just turned and looked at his father. He couldn't bring himself to speak.

Adama was taken off guard by the look of abject sorrow in Lee's eyes. It was suddenly clear that Lee was drowning in that sorrow. He had never seen this in his son; the emptiness that was consuming him was obvious. _How did I miss it these past few weeks?_ The lack of…life…in Lee was plain to see as he stared at him now. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to screw up the next few minutes.

"I'd like to help. If you'll let me…."

Lee didn't turn away, but his eyes drifted down towards the couch cushion, "You can't." He loathed himself for saying it. He knew his dad would think that he was just pushing him away. He wasn't. But how could anyone help him? The world had gone mad. His own father and his President had been willing to commit murder, execute Cain like they would a Toaster, just because they couldn't find common ground. And Kara had gone along with it.

Where was the father he'd grown to love and admire? Where was the idealistic Roslin that he'd sacrificed everything for to set free just a few months earlier? Where was the Kara that would never willingly become an assassin? The fact that the Cylon had beaten them to it and killed Cain meant nothing.

He wished that frakking Raptor had never found him. He'd been so close to being done with it all. This pointless life of running and fighting forever could have been over. _Maybe I would have even seen Mom and Zak again…._

He idly wondered if the alcohol was getting to him, he felt like he was sinking deeper into the cushions. Aimlessly, he brought the glass up and drained it, then slowly stood. Laying the glass down carefully on the table, he straightened and almost turned back to his father's worried expression. Almost.

"I'm sorry…I wish you could," he whispered, and took a step towards the hatch.

"Son…"

Lee stopped at the sound of Adama's voice; he turned to find his father on his feet close behind him. He let Adama pull him into an embrace.

"If you need anything, anything at all, come to me, Lee. I want to help you," Adama murmured into his son's shoulder. He felt only slight comfort when Lee's arms returned the hug. He let go after a few moments, when he felt Lee weakly pull away. The empty, expressionless look on Lee's face terrified him. His son was clearly in pain, but he wouldn't say why. Or maybe he _couldn't_ say why.

Lee held his gaze for a moment, and then slowly left the cabin. He wanted to tell his Dad everything, but he didn't have the words. Even worse, he didn't know why. He wasn't angry with his father, he knew that much. Why couldn't he talk to him? What made him think it wouldn't matter even if he tried? _Gods…nothing makes sense anymore…._

Lee wandered slowly down the passageway. He didn't even have a destination.

Adama stared at the door where Lee had just been. What had happened to his boy out there? He knew that Lee had very nearly died of asphyxiation. But it seemed to him that the spark of life hadn't returned when he was resuscitated. What was wrong? His mind's eye drifted back to the last time he'd seen Lee before the battle. Lee had come to him, asking about the mission to kill Admiral Cain. He'd thought, at the time, that Lee was trying to change his mind. He'd stonewalled Lee's questions. He didn't need to be swayed from the decision. Too much was at stake. Lee would understand in time. He hoped Lee would just drop it and he had. But the last look on Lee's face had troubled him.

Had that been hurt? Disillusionment?

He had to reach his son somehow. Somebody needed to. With a sigh, he made his decision. He needed help.

He left his quarters. He needed to find Kara.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow…I got a lot more reviews on "Empty" than I thought I would. Thanks to everyone who stopped in to read. Originally, I envisioned Empty as a one-shot epilogue. But the reviews and the following episode, "Scar," gave me some ideas that I want to play with, so here goes.

This one will cover the time between "Black Market" and "Scar," in case anyone's tracking a timeline.

RDM owns it all I'm just a dabbler.

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**Empty Chapter 2**

Adama made his way to the pilots' rec room, looking for Kara. It was late, and he wasn't sure where she'd be at this hour, but his meeting with Lee had him worried. Maybe she might be able to get through to him better than he could. He felt a pang of regret at that notion…he didn't even know how reach out to his own flesh and blood. He pushed the thought aside. He had a mission to complete. That's how he would deal with this.

He arrived to find only a handful of pilots sitting around. Some were playing cards, some were indulging in ambrosia. He tried to slip in quietly, but HotDog spotted him, and jumped to his feet.

"Admiral on deck!" The rest of the pilots leapt up, following HotDog's lead.

"As you were, everyone," Adama said, motioning them to sit. He made his way over to where HotDog and Kat were playing cards.

"Lieutenants," he greeted.

"Evening, sir," both replied easily.

"I understand you both completed your flight qualifications on the Mk VIIs, congratulations to both of you."

Kat's smile at that lit the room, "Thank you, Admiral."

Adama got to the business at hand, "Either of you know where I might find Starbuck?"

He noticed an odd look of discomfort flash between them, but kept quiet. _Now what?_

HotDog spoke up first, "She's uh--in the bunkroom, I believe, sir, probably asleep by now."

Adama thanked them and let them return to the game. He made his way aft to the bunkroom area, and slowly pulled the hatch open. Starbuck was lying sprawled on her rack, snoring. Disappointed, but unwilling to wake her, he glanced around noticed the stench of alcohol permeating the compartment. He noticed two empty ambrosia bottles lying sloppily on the communal table in the center of the room. Glancing back at Kara, he noticed the empty glass in her hand, dripping what remained of its contents onto the sheets of the rack. He frowned. _What's going on with her? Is my whole family screwed up? _With a quiet sigh, he withdrew and closed the hatch. He'd have to ask her about Lee tomorrow…and maybe, ask about her too.

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_The Next Day_

Lee sat uncomfortably on the examination table in sickbay. Doc Cottle was poking at the bruise on his stomach from where his attacker had punched him in Shevon's room on Cloud 9, and jotting down notes on a clipboard. Lee tried to keep his head away from the smoldering cigarette in the doctor's mouth, but the smoke was getting to his nose anyway. Cottle apparently noticed his frown, and poked him a little harder than necessary near his bruise. Lee shot him a dirty look, but said nothing…which is all he'd said since coming in here thirty minutes earlier. He had nothing against Cottle in particular, even though he was an obnoxious sonnuva---

"Anything you'd like to mention, Captain?"

Lee thought for a moment, and then replied, "The stuff you gave me for my neck stings a little when I use it."

Cottle puffed on his cigarette, "It's supposed to, that means it's healing the wound. Small price to pay for almost being garroted, wouldn't you say?"

Lee shrugged, withdrawing back inside again. His will to talk had disappeared again, as it did often of late. Cottle scribbled some more on his board, then moved to the nearby counter to finish up and remove his gloves.

"How about your friend on _Cloud 9_?"

Lee looked up sharply at that, "What?"

"Is she keeping up with her shots?" at Lee's confused look he added, "They need to be careful about getting anti-viral shots every month. Socialators may be legal in most of the Colonies, son, but its still not the safest way to make a living. Those shots keep her _and_ her clients healthy."

Lee look turned accusatory, "How do you know anything about that?"

"I got a call from _Cloud 9_'s medic when you found the body in that girl's quarters. Not many other activities on L Deck, Captain."

Lee sighed. _I guess it's hard to keep that stuff a secret. _The memory of the previous night's conversation with his Dad formed in his mind, and he looked back at Cottle, "Did you say anything to my father?"

Cottle glanced up from his papers and shook his head with an annoyed look.

"None of my business, young man…" Cottle's sneer became a smirk, "unless it starts hurting you to pee."

Lee glared at him a moment, then started buttoning up his jacket. Cottle glanced up again, "Starbuck was asking about you, though."

Lee finished closing his jacket and asked, "Why?"

Cottle shrugged, "Something about how you've been acting since your near-asphyxiation a few weeks ago. I told her I wasn't a shrink. Besides, even if I was, I couldn't tell her about anything you said in here."

Lee murmured a "thanks" and headed towards the curtain.

"Lee?"

Lee stopped short of the exit and turned, it was rare for the doctor to address him by first name. In fact, the only time he could remember had been when his father was coming out of surgery months ago.

Cottle turned to him, "If there was something you needed to talk about, she seemed genuinely concerned."

Lee looked at the floor. He knew he couldn't talk to her anymore than he could talk to his Dad last night. He just nodded, "Yeah. Thanks." He left the room as Cottle put the cigarette back in his mouth.

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Lee walked down one of _Galactica_'s many miles of corridor. So…Cottle knew. His Dad knew. He wondered how long until everyone else found out too. Not that he really cared. He cared about very little these days. A few pilots passed him in the corridor. He nodded absently but didn't stop moving. He was almost to the ready room when the PA buzzed to life.

"Attention. Pass the word to Captain Adama: Captain Adama report to the Ward Room. Repeat. Pass the word to Captain Adama: Captain Adama report to the Ward Room."

With a tired sigh, Lee turned the next corner and made his way forward to the Ward Room.

On his arrival, he noted his father, President Roslin, Lt. Gaeta and Colonel Tigh bent over a printout on the center table. He stepped into the room, and saluted smartly near the door. Adama looked up at the motion.

"At ease, Captain, come take a look at this."

Lee noticed that his father didn't take his gaze off of him as he moved to the table, but he tried not to stare back. The others seemed more interested in the papers covering the table. He stopped near Gaeta and looked at the readouts. Gaeta filled him in.

"One of our Raptors made a close pass near this asteroid field early this morning, they detected large quantities of ore in this one," Gaeta pointed out one of the larger rocks on the DRADIS scans.

His father took up the briefing from there, "We want to send in one of the mining ships to extract the ore. This is just what we need to start producing more Vipers."

Lee nodded silently. They'd been discussing the possibilities of building new Vipers for some time now.

Roslin took the cue, "With your deck gang's recent success building the Blackbird from scratch, we think this may be an excellent opportunity to replenish our fighter losses. Since the Cylons seem to have retreated after the loss of their Resurrection Ship, this is the perfect time."

Lee's blood ran cold at the mention of the Blackbird.

_"Starbuck, Apollo. Target's FTL is history."_

_A flash... the console exploding in his face…being slammed against the canopy as the ship begins to spin…._

_…pulling the ejection handle as the canopy begins to shatter…being blasted into free-floating weightlessness…_

_…catching a last glimpse of the Blackbird as she spins to her doom…the eerie calm of watching the battle rage on dozens of miles above (below?) him…Galactica and Pegasus flying in huge figure-eights around the Cylon basestar, blasting away…_

"Lee?"

He snapped his attention back at the sound of his father's firm voice. How long had he been drifting? He noticed the others looking at him too. He looked at his father.

"Sir?"

"I asked how many planes you'd need to secure the area."

Lee frowned, trying to ignore the stares of the others. "Um…more than we have, sir. We'd need to pull some pilots from the _Pegasus_ air group to help, but it should be possible."

He desperately tried to avoid looking directly at his father, who had abandoned any pretense of interest in the planning and was watching him alone. He drew his attention to what Colonel Tigh was saying now.

"…and have the roster ready by 1800."

Lee honestly hadn't heard any of that, but knew what Tigh wanted, so he pretended nothing was wrong…like he had been for weeks now. _'Yes sir, no sir, nod, work, eat, sleep, yes sir, no sir…._

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed, Captain," his father said. Lee could feel his Dad's eyes on his back as he quickly exited the room. He headed for his office, hoping he could avoid them for the rest of the afternoon. He was already weary of people asking if he was alright.

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Adama watched his son leave the room. He had noticed the sudden change in Lee at the mention of the Blackbird. Lee's narrow escape was clearly still bothering him. He had to force his attention back to the discussion at hand. He felt little interest in the Viper project, regardless of its importance, while his son remained in trouble. He filed Lee's reaction away for future use, though, and turned back to hear Roslin addressing the time required.

"…at least two weeks. The Captain of the _Majahual_ can't give us accurate drilling times before he sees the asteroid up close."

Adama looked at Tigh, "Contact Commander Garner aboard Pegasus, ask him to meet us here in two hours. We'll need to brief him as well."

As the meeting broke up, he realized that Roslin wasn't moving to leave. He knew they had left her very upset about the black market situation last night, and she probably wasn't through with him yet on that subject. He waited until the others had left before leveling a neutral gaze on her. He braced for another argument.

"Admiral, I was wondering if you'd noticed anything odd about Captain Adama's behavior lately?"

That surprised him. Had she noticed something too?

"Yes, as a matter of fact. He's been hard to reach lately." _An understatement if I ever heard one…._

Roslin nodded, "So I've noticed. And his attitude during the debriefing last night--"

Adama cut her off, a little too defensively even to his own ears, "Madame President…Laura…he's been through a lot lately. We all have."

She smiled. She knew, of course, that he was referring to her recent, and miraculous, recovery from her cancer. "I know, Bill. I'm not---" she paused, searching for the right words, "I just want to be sure Lee's alright, that's all."

Adama wasted no words as usual, "I tried talking to him. He doesn't seem to be open to discussing it. He can be pretty stubborn when he wants to be."

That earned him a wry grin. "He's _your_ son."

Adama retorted with their old joke, "He's _your_ advisor."

Roslin smiled as she began to move away, "Well, let me know if I can help."

Adama returned her smile, albeit briefly, "I will. Thank you, Madame President."

He watched her go, and settled into one of the nearby chairs. He honestly wasn't sure where to begin solving Lee's problem. It might help if he actually knew what it was. He still needed to find Kara this morning. He was going to need help in any case, and the woman that was practically his daughter-in-law knew Lee better than anyone. Himself included.


	3. Chapter 3

Here we are essentially amidst the events covered in "Scar," but earlier on than the episode proper. Chapter 3 picks up about a week after Chapter 2, likewise about a week into the mining operation. Lee is still in his cocoon of depression, and Adama is still trying to piece it all together.

Thanks for the continued reviews. RDM still owns everything.

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**Empty Chapter 3**

Lee Adama scanned the sky for what must have been the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. He and Hotdog were making long leisurely sweeps in their Viper Mk VIIs along the perimeter of Sector 259, directly above the mining ship _Majahual_. If there was an "above" in space, he supposed. The last week had proven more nerve-racking than they had hoped.

The mining was taking longer than expected due to conditions on the asteroid and problems with the equipment aboard the mining ship. If that wasn't enough, Cylon Raiders had been making random, but effective, hit-and-run attacks against both his Viper patrols and the civilian fleet that was holding station just outside the enormous field of rocks and gas. And to top off the list of worries, the DRADIS systems couldn't detect squat inside the field. Only _Galactica_ had any real picture of the situation, and that was only because she was too big to move in amongst the rocks and ice. But, with Raiders popping in and out from behind the debris, all his patrols were all flying with only the "Mk 1 Eyeball" to guide them. _Not the best way to detect chrome-colored raiders against the blackness of space…._

He glanced over to his right. He could see _Galactica_ from here, holding station close to the mining operation, the enormous bulk of the battlestar filling that part of the sky. Lee couldn't see _Pegasus_ from his current position, but he knew that they were sitting on the spaceward side of the civilian fleet, guarding their exposed flanks.

He wanted to land this Viper. He hadn't been comfortable in a spacecraft since the ejection from the Blackbird, and he seemed to have lost whatever it was that made him enjoy flying. It felt more and more like a mere job to him, and a thankless one at that. He could tell that others were beginning to notice as well. He fended off questions about his well-being everyday. Fortunately, most of the pilots under his command could be pushed away with a stern look. As for his father and Kara…well, it was better that he stay busy and _avoid_ them. They weren't so easy to fend off. His father was making it hard on him of late, too. He been asked…_like my father ever "asks" anything_…to join the elder Adama for dinner three times in the last week. It was getting harder to keep the conversation on work. Lee noted with some sadness that not long ago, he would have been ecstatic to have such a close relationship with his father. They'd managed to rebuild so much since they'd been forced back together a little over seven months ago. In the end, though, it had all been for nothing. His father had ordered Starbuck to assassinate Admiral Cain.

_MY father ordered her…_.

When his own father was willing to get blood on his hands over something so---

_STOP THINKING...STOP THINKING…STOP THINKING_._ Finish this frakking CAP and land._

Lee's train of thought was interrupted by the hum of his helmet's speaker and a glint of light in his peripheral vision. It was Hotdog, whose Viper was pulling up beside his own.

"Perimeter's clear, Skipper."

Lee welcomed the distraction. It was always better when he didn't have time to think…especially lately. "Good. A few more minutes and Kat's patrol will relieve us."

There was silence on the other end for a moment, "You alright, Apollo? You haven't said much since we launched."

Lee grew annoyed. _Another round of questions? _He'd already had this discussion with Hotdog, hadn't he?"We're circling a mining op, looking for Toasters. What's there to talk about? The weather? Mind your Viper, Hotdog. We do our jobs and then we land. Clear?"

Again, there was silence for moment, "Yes sir."

Inwardly, Lee flinched. He hadn't meant to come down so hard on Constanza. He was a good kid. He shook his head. Too late now, he'd already opened his big mouth. The speaker hummed to life again.

"Apollo, Kat. We're in position. Sector 258; vector three-one-niner. Over."

_Finally_.

"Kat, Apollo. Roger that. We're heading for the barn. _Galactica_, Apollo. Afternoon patrol on station, we're heading in." He waited for acknowledgement from the battlestar, and then signaled Hotdog, "Let's go home."

He and Hotdog finished the last leg of their patrol circle, and then turned toward the ship. Ten minutes later, both were touching down in the landing pod.

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Lee finished the post-landing check on his Viper and made it off the flight deck in record time. He wanted to return to his rack. Lately that had been the only safe place he could be when his overly concerned shipmates came looking. No one on a battlestar would disturb another when their privacy curtain was closed. It had been like that all over the fleet, no matter which battlestar you were stationed on.

_When there had BEEN a fleet... Before we decided to spend the rest of our lives looking for some half-mythical planet…. Before the whole world had gone mad…._

Lee made it to the bunkroom unnoticed. He glanced around the room. No one else was present. _Good timing_. He started to unzip his flight suit and gathered some of his paperwork off the bunk. He'd get in, close the curtain, turn on the lamp, and do his work until it was time to eat.

_Perfect_.

As he reached for the curtain, the PA buzzed.

"Attention: Pass the word to the CAG, Captain Adama, please report to Command Observation…."

Lee groaned. _Not so perfect_….

Lee entered CIC and climbed the ladder to the Command Observation Deck that overlooked the ship's nerve center. He found the place deserted, which was rare, but not unusual. His father was sitting alone at one of the far stations. He had paperwork spread across the console and was jotting something down in one of his several logbooks.

_Working alone, like father like son_…. Lee thought. Again he felt that pang of regret. Just another reminder that his father was just like him…just another reminder that his father had ordered---

Why couldn't he get past that? It's not like Cain was a saint. She was a psychotic bitch who deserved what she got. She robbed civilian ships of supplies and left them to die. Like a pirate. Like a CYLON…. Why did it matter? His dad had decided to stop her. And if that meant sinking to her level, then why wasn't that an acceptable choice?

_Frak. He's staring at me again. STOP THINKING…._

He stepped forward, and tried to smile. He wasn't sure what it came out looking like…he was sure it wasn't pretty. He steadied himself and spoke.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

If Adama thought anything about Lee's hesitation, he said nothing. Not surprising. He'd stopped trying to predict his father's reactions long ago. Instead Adama merely nodded and motioned for him to sit in the chair next to him. Lee tried not to hesitate this time and just sank slowly into the chair.

Adama removed his glasses and looked over at him, "How was the patrol?"

Lee blinked, not sure what his father was aiming at, "Um, quiet, for a change. No Cylons. No sign of that scarred raider. I'm hoping that's a good sign for today."

Adama nodded in approval, "Me too. You were a little rough on Hotdog weren't you?"

That blindsided him. Lee opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it. He couldn't really complain. The admiral was certainly within his rights to listen in on the CAP's transmissions, it wasn't like they were using a private channel.

"I, um…yeah, I was…I guess I'm just having a bad---"

"Please don't fence with me, son."

Lee stopped, whether because of his father's request, or because his father said "please," which was rare. He didn't know what to say. Fortunately, hid father kept talking.

"I know you've been acting differently. I know something's bothering…" he paused, leveling piercing stare at Lee, "…or maybe eating at you is a better way to say it. I'm not sure what it is and you won't tell me. Doesn't seem like you want to tell anyone else either, and that's your right. But you're my son, and I want to help you with whatever this is if I can."

Lee felt the urge to speak and run away at the same time. He wanted to talk to his dad…not his commanding officer, his dad. He wanted to scream at him for changing. For allowing himself to sink to the level of some mealy-mouthed conspirator, for letting Roslin's talent for political maneuvering and backstabbing (some of her few negative traits in his opinion) be translated into a method of solving friction in the chain of command. Certainly Cain was out of control, but something within the regs could have stopped her. Couldn't they?

He wanted to tell his father that the worst moment of his life had been when he was floating in open space, strapped to his ejection seat, and he realized that he was breaking his promise to protect Kara when she went to kill Cain. That he had left Kara behind the same way he had left…HER…behind on Caprica. He wanted to tell him just how sick he was of living in this monstrous tin can waiting for some Cylon machine to snuff his life out the way they'd snuffed out so many others. He wanted to scream out all those things.

He didn't know how. Explaining "how you feel" had never been a strong trait in the Adama family line. He didn't even know how his father might react to hearing it. Disappointment? Probably. Disapproval? Even more likely…. Maybe if he just blurted it all out---

The loudspeakers blared, "Galactica, Kat! Three raiders jumped us as we rounded asteroid one-two-zero…they're all over us out here! Duck's high engine has been hit, we need the cavalry!"

With a curse, Adama rose and raced down the ladder into CIC proper. Lee followed close behind. When Adama reached the situation table he barked, "Action stations! Set Condition One!"

As the alarms blared and Tigh relayed the Admiral's orders, Lee moved to Dee's station. "Launch the Alert Vipers."

"DRADIS contact!" Gaeta chimed in, "Looks like three Heavy Raiders…they're bearing in on the civilian fleet. _Pegasus_ is moving to intercept."

Lee and his father shifted their gaze up to the DRADIS monitors simultaneously. Sure enough, _Pegasus_ was charging up through the civvies like an enraged Piconese bull. Further down the screen, _Galactica_'s Alert Vipers were racing down into the asteroid field to help Kat and Duck.

The loudspeakers came to life again, "Galactica, this is Kat. The raiders have broken off. It looks like they jumped when they spotted the Alert fighters."

Lee picked up a headset from the table, "Kat, CAG. What is Duck's condition?"

"He's…he's trailing vapor from the damaged engine. High engine looks completely burned out from here."

Adama leaned over, "Get them back here."

Lee nodded, "Kat, escort Duck back to base. Alert One, CAG. Sweep sector 258 through 260. Search and destroy raiders if possible. Keep them away from the mining ship no matter what, clear?"

"Roger, Galactica. Search and destroy," the pilot replied. Was that Riley? Lee couldn't tell through the static. He glanced over at his father, who was discussing the attack on the civvies with Tigh. It looked like _Pegasus_ had driven them off. Just another Cylon hit-and-run…they were becoming more frequent.

"I'll head down and check on Duck," he said.

His dad looked at him, opening his mouth like he was going to speak, but only nodded. Lee took his chance to leave, silently cursing himself for being such a coward when it came to talking to his only remaining family.

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Adama watched Lee walk out of CIC, and cursed under his breath_. Frakking Cylons…he was ready to talk. I know it…._

He was startled when Tigh spoke up from right next to him. He hadn't noticed Saul lean over.

"Close this time?"

Adama looked at him and sighed, "Close."

"Well, that's progress, I suppose," Tigh said quietly.

Adama shrugged, looking back at the now empty hatchway leading out, "Maybe."

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Several hours later, Lee wearily stepped into the rec room and poured himself a drink. The debriefing with Kat and Duck had taken longer than he would have liked. From their reports, and from their gun camera footage, one of the raiders that jumped them seemed to be that scarred one they'd seen a few days earlier. Apparently, it was a better flyer than the average Toaster fighter. They'd have to keep an eye out for him.

A few pilots were scattered around, so he picked a table in the corner, facing the wall. Hopefully, he'd be able to finish his drink in peace and then go to his rack. He'd rather take it to the bunkroom, but Starbuck and Helo were playing cards in there, and they weren't at the top of his "want-to-see" list right now. Better to finish the drink here, then he could head straight to the rack and minimize the time spent fending off any unwanted questions when he entered the bunkroom.

He was almost done with the ambrosia when he felt, rather than saw, someone join him at the table. He glanced over his shoulder to see Hotdog nod quietly and sip at his own drink.

"Evening, Skipper."

Lee nodded to him, feeling more than a little awkward. He really should apologize to his wingman. The kid didn't deserve to have his head bitten off like that. He frowned at the tabletop for a minute, and then tried to look Constanza in the eye.

"Look, Hot--…_Brendan_, I'm sorry about this morning---"

Constanza waved him off with a smile, "Don't worry about it, Captain."

Lee frowned, "Well…I apologize anyway." He fell silent, unsure what else to say. Hotdog, wearing a large grin, produced a whole bottle of the ambrosia he was sipping from the glass.

"Drink with me, Skipper?"

Lee had to smile at that, "You know, until tonight I don't think I've ever seen you drink. When did this start?"

If possible, Hotdog's grin widened, "Flying with Starbuck will do that to a guy."

Lee had to laugh at that. He marveled to himself that he couldn't remember the last time he honestly felt like laughing at _anything_. Hotdog gestured with the bottle. Lee offered up his glass.

"So, Captain, when are you coming back to the card game?"

Lee took another shot of the greenish liquid. He was starting to feel a buzz already…this was strong stuff. Despite himself, he felt a little more relaxed. He glanced at the hopeful expression on Hotdog's face.

Maybe he would answer just a _few_ questions….


	4. Chapter 4

This one's short on account of a serious case of writer's block.

This chapter takes place after the events of "Scar" and Kara and Helo's heart to heart in the gym…about a month after Chapter 2, few weeks after Ch 3. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as always, I appreciate it!

RDM still owns all of it.

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**Empty Chapter 4**

"You surrender?" Kara asked.

"Yes! I'm done! I'm out!" Helo gasped, still laughing from their wrestling match on the deck of the gymnasium.

"Alright then," Kara nodded with a grin. She started back towards the locker room, but stopped short of the hatch and turned back. "Thanks."

Helo smiled and merely nodded. Words weren't necessary. He was the only other one on the ship who had been there on Caprica with her, and who knew everything about Samuel Anders. Even Lee only knew the basics. For some reason she couldn't figure out, she couldn't bring herself to tell Lee the details. Lee, true to form, had guessed a lot of it since she'd been back, that much she could tell, but he had said little to her. Now that she'd royally frakked up her friendship with Lee--- She stopped thinking. _Thinking is bad._

Starbuck made her way to the adjacent locker room…and stopped cold. Lee was practicing his boxing on the speed bag near the lockers. Biting her lip, she stepped into the compartment. He had his back to the hatch and didn't notice her entrance. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have. Their drunken, disastrous fling--aborted fling--was almost certainly going to be a hot button issue with him.

When Kara had sobered up she'd realized that, given his mood the last month and a half since near-death experience, he probably would react very badly to the incident. She considered backing out through the hatch before he saw her, but that cowardly thought was quickly overridden by her need to see if he was okay.

Her thoughts stopped abruptly when he finished practicing and turned towards the lockers. He'd spotted her, and any chance of escape was lost. She put on the best nonchalant look she could manage and croaked out a greeting.

"Hey."

"Hey," Lee replied automatically. He didn't really want to see her at this moment. _Frak. I should probably smile or something._ But, then, he couldn't really muster the energy for it, and his face settled into what he could only guess was a "Triad-bluff" expression. _This_ _never worked in the card games…._

The seconds seemed to creep by slowly before Kara even blinked. She began to move tentatively towards her locker, which was entirely too close to his for her comfort right now. She took care to maintain the easy-going expression.

"You, uh…you're up late."

Lee finished unwrapping his hands and pulled a towel from his locker to dry the sweat from his face before glancing back.

"Yup."

He started at the sound of her locker door slamming, and looked over his shoulder at her. She was turned towards him, but not meeting his eyes.

"Lee…about the other night---"

"It was a mistake," he cut her off curtly, but she heard none of the expected anger in his voice. In fact, she heard no emotion at all, which felt worse to her. For some reason she couldn't explain, she heard a small alert klaxon in the back of her mind. She tried again.

"I just---"

"We were drunk, Starbuck. It was a mistake. We learn from it and move on," he interrupted, with that strange, emotionless voice again. And he called her 'Starbuck' again. He hadn't used her name since the argument. That _really_ bothered her…and again she wasn't sure why. He was starting to piss her off though.

"Are you going to let me finish a sentence, Lee?" she asked with a hint of venom.

He looked at her blandly as he replaced his tanks with a dry set from the locker, and nudged the door shut. He picked up his bag and turned to her, staring blankly…more in her direction than _at her_. She took what she could get.

"I just think we should talk about what happened…between us."

Lee said nothing for a minute. He opened his mouth to speak, finally, when Helo suddenly strolled into the locker area whistling loudly around his ever-present sucker. Lee glanced at the ECO, then back at Kara and shrugged.

"There's nothing to talk about, Starbuck."

Kara stood there, dumbfounded, as Lee turned and left the room without another word. Helo seemed to notice.

"Everything alright, Kara? What's with Apollo?"

Kara just frowned, her eyes still on the hatch Lee had passed through, "I don't know…."

Helo matched her frown, but said nothing. With a passing farewell to her friend, Kara gathered her belongings and headed out of the locker room. _What the frak did he mean_ '_learn from it and move on?'_ What, was he channeling his father now? It didn't sound like the Lee she knew at all. She couldn't tell if he was angry with her, or cutting her out of his life completely.

The first option she could handle. Angry fights and heated arguments were where she lived. The second option terrified her so much that she felt a chill just considering it. And his cold demeanor was pointing to the second. It bothered her that she used to be able to read he fairly well. Now she felt like she was on the outside, trying to see in. The knot of fear in her belly grew with each passing thought.

Kara headed down the passageway leading to the senior officers' quarters. She was torn between wanting desperately to finish the conversation she'd tried to start in the gym, and crawling into some dark closet and hiding from Lee the way he had seemed to be hiding from her. That part annoyed her. _He_ was getting entirely too skilled at avoiding _her_ lately. The night they got drunk was the first time in a month that he'd spent more than five minutes in her presence. She once again regretted being so deep in the bottle that night, since it would have been the perfect chance to get him to open up about _his_ problem. The one he'd confided to her after Cain's funeral. The one she had spent a month squarely refusing to think about while she tried to drown her own problems.

"_That's just it, Kara…I didn't want to come back alive…."_

She rounded the corner into the area known as "Officers' Country," and pulled open the hatch to their bunkroom. A quick scan of the room told her three things: Lee was there, he had pulled his privacy curtain closed, and he wasn't alone in the room. The presence of others killed whatever opportunity Kara might have had to talk to him. Ignoring a closed privacy curtain was taboo on a warship, especially in front of others. Kara, like everyone else, had to respect that. She headed for her own rack instead, secretly happy that he had made it so easy for her to ignore this…_thing_ between them, secretly disappointed that the confrontation would have to wait, and secretly ashamed of her newfound cowardice.


End file.
